Through His Eyes
by Rasthmus
Summary: Every tale has more than one side. This is The Order of the Phoenix from the perspective of Draco Malfoy. As Draco strugles with his feelings towards his upbringing and his family the overwhelming fate which can't be escaped draws nearer. Draco/Hermione.


**A/N: Basically I have decided to re-write **_**The Order of the Phoenix**_** through Draco Malfoy's perspective. I don't know if this has been done before (though it probably has with amount of fics that there are XD) but I've never seen it and I'd like to try and write it! The story will follow the plot of OOTP but a lot of it will be invented as Draco isn't really in it that much…XD**

**The pairing is Draco/Hermione so sorry if you don't like that but they're very unlikely to end up as a couple (following the book…) **

Chapter One

'Draco!' Narcissa Malfoy glared at her son from the opposite end of the table. 'Don't be ridiculous!' Her eyes narrowed, somehow managing to convey her intense displeasure even from the immense length on the gleaming table. The room was silent, save the soft crackling of glowing embers from the overly-ornate marble fireplace and the absent minded drumming of fingernails on the table from Draco Malfoy who, at his mother's words scowled and slouched in his chair.

'Don't slouch!' reprimanded Mrs. Malfoy. 'Can you at least attempt to prove that you have been brought up rather than dragged up?' She sighed deeply, seeming to be steeling herself. 'And I will not have you speaking like that of the Dark Lord.' Here she drew in a sharp intake of breath and shuddered slightly. '_Especially _not in this house Draco, what do you think your father would say if he heard you talking like that?'

At these words Draco's resolve seemed to strengthen and he sat up straighter to glare down the length of the table at his mother. He stopped drumming and folded his arms across his chest, jutting his chin in an arrogant manner. 'I do not care what he would say. He has no affect on my life or my choices. Not any more. I am my own person mother and I do not intend to turn out like him.' Seeming to draw strength and courage from his own words Draco stood gracefully and swept out of the room, shutting the door behind him in a refined manner which nevertheless left Narcissa in no doubt of the conviction behind his words. He truly believed what he was saying and that he would do all in his power to make them come true.

Across the room Narcissa drew in a deep shaking breath and let her head drop to the table, a wave of shimmering blonde hair concealing her aristocratic features from view. Her shoulders began to shake under their dark robes and she raised her hand to brush offending tears from her pale eyes as sobs wracked her slender body. She felt utterly wretched; for once in his spoilt, pampered life her son was doing something for the good which might actually give him the chance to be a decent person and she couldn't bring herself to support him in his decision. She sighed and shook her head with a wry smile. Well at least it seemed that her opposition only strengthened his feeling rather than making him doubt himself. A true teenage rebellion! Lucius was certainly not going to be happy, Narcissa thought. I think I'll stay out his way for a while and hope that things turn out alright.

Sighing again she got to her feet and left the room via another door, her thoughts whirling with the thought of her husband's wrath when he discovered Draco's new found outlook on life and in particular to his lord and master. She was extremely glad that he was away right now with his 'friends', a not very complicated code for death eater business. Well she didn't want to know. Though lately he had been dropping an awful lot of hints about how wonderful life was with the Dark Lord, this was mainly for Draco's benefit she knew, but she also sensed that he wanted her in as well. Something for the whole family to do together.

Upon reaching her bedroom door Narcissa paused for a moment, listening to the quiet stillness of the old, empty house. Sometimes, when she was all alone in the house the Malfoy woman hated it, but for tonight at least she knew that Draco was somewhere there in that impenetrable silence. Smiling to herself at the thought of her son, her one achievement in life, she pulled the door closed behind her with a soft click.

Meanwhile on the other side of the mansion Draco buried his head in his pillows and screamed for all he was worth, putting every feeling of anger and injustice into the cry. It was a technique he often used when his feelings got too much to bare in the stuffy atmosphere of the upper-class wizards; it meant that he didn't disgrace his family. He laughed softly to himself at that one. Disgrace his family! Well he had already done that one extremely successfully as far as he could see. He just couldn't win; he was never going to be good enough to be a Malfoy. So he had finally come to the decision that if he wasn't good enough for them then they weren't good enough for him. It wasn't like he wanted to spend his life as a pawn anyway - especially not to an egocentric psychopath like Voldemort. Whilst many of his ethoses were essentially sound – to Draco's prejudiced mind anyway – he didn't agree with his methods. Though he detested all mudbloods and muggles and would cross the street to avoid them he didn't want to torture or murder them, it was just unnecessary.

Rolling onto his back Draco gazed at the dark drapes above him and slowly he felt his thoughts drifting away from his conscious mind, letting his dreams take shape as his eyes fell shut.

The next day dawned hot and muggy full of the promise of a spectacular storm to come. Across the awakening grounds of Malfoy Manor a solitary figure cut through the thick air, swooping and diving on his nimbus 2001 with almost unnecessary vigour. His slender figure was pressed flat against the dark wood of the handle, his hands clutching at it like a lifeline. The sharp features of his pale face were contorted in concentration as he attempted again and again to simply plummet into the ground without pulling out the dive.

Much to his displeasure however it would seem that his self preservation instinct was still intact enough to force him to pull out of his dives before he turned into a splat on the ground.

Apparently part of his mind didn't care that his father would turn him into a bloody when he found out what he'd been saying about the Dark Lord. To be perfectly honest Draco would far rather become intimately and painfully acquainted with the solid ground in a preferably fatal way than face his father's wrath, but it seemed that his survival instinct wouldn't let him do that.

Watching from her window Narcissa clutched at the frame in mild terror as her son defied death, once again pulling out of a hair-raising dive at the last minute. In fact Draco's failed attempt at suicide was putting on quite a show for the occupants on the manor – not that he noticed. Even his father raised an impressed eyebrow as he lounged against the doorframe twirling his wand lazily in on hand. They might make something of the boy yet. He was certainly finally giving Lucius some reimbursement for buying him onto the quidditch team. Perhaps this year he might finally be able to beat the Potter brat.

After an hour's fruitless flying Draco stormed back to the house dripping with sweat and in an absolutely furious temper. Utter disgust at himself and his lack of will to die made him slam the heavy front door behind him and merely scowl at his parents as they greeted him from the dining room where they were eating their breakfast.

'Get back here Draco Malfoy!' snapped Lucius, glaring after his son.

'Make me.' Draco muttered under his breath, but he turned back just the same; unwilling to face the consequences of ignoring a direct command from his father.

'You will remember you manners at all times Draco.' Lucius hissed silkily. 'As this was only a minor slip I will not punish you…but be warned, I will not tell you again. As a Malfoy you must display perfect decorum at all times. There is no room for mistakes.' Lucius sniffed irritably.

'Now greet your mother and me and go and get dressed. You look a sight.'

Draco clenched his fist around the handle of his broomstick in frustration; it wasn't like he had done anything so terrible. Still he was a Malfoy and, as his father said, there was no room for mistakes, not matter how small, in his family.

'Good morning mother, father. I'll just go and take a shower now if that's okay by you?' he said as politely as he could through gritted teeth.

Lucius smirked contentedly at his son's discomfort. 'Perfectly.' he sneered.

Later on as the threatening storm blazed spectacularly outside Draco found himself seated in between his parents at a fancy dinner party, a forced smile twisting his features as he longed to glare at the people surrounding him.

On his left his mother was in her element, making small talk with her so called friends, not that she actually cared at all about them, flirting with important men on her husband's orders and displaying her exquisite manners in eating her food. He didn't know how she did it; he knew she didn't want to be there just as much as him and yet somehow she managed to put up this confident and contented front which would have fooled even him if he hadn't known better.

Draco started slightly as he felt her hand brush his clenched fist under the table and looked up in surprise to see her cast him a brief sympathetic smile. Narcissa Malfoy was not a cruel woman and she cared deeply about her son. She didn't want to see him upset, but nor did she want to see him beaten black and blue and Lucius had instructed them that this dinner was important so it was imperative that the whole family attended.

Gritting his teeth Draco returned to stare resolutely ahead, determinedly ignoring those around him – particularly his father. To be honest he would rather be pretty much anywhere than here, what he would give to be curled up in bed with a book! He laughed humourlessly to himself, if he wasn't careful he would end up spending his life in the library like Granger.

At this though he suddenly felt hot and glanced around in fear and humiliation as though the people around him could have seen his last thought. He was thinking about her again. Under the table he tightened his fists until it was painful trying to drive the image of the smiling girl from his head. Not smiling at him of course, but she did look beautiful when she smiled…

Relaxing for a second a genuine smile graced his face before he realised what he was doing and shook his head violently; as though he could shake her face from his mind. What was wrong with him! She was a mudblood. A filthy Gryffindor mudblood who didn't deserve to breathe the same air as him. And yet he found his thoughts drifting towards her. Again.

He closed his eyes and pictured himself flying, soaring through the clear, cold air on a broomstick without a care in the world. After a minute he opened his eyes to find several people looking at him in faux concern; probably hoping for some new scandal from the Malfoys.

'Are you all right Draco dear?' Mrs. Nott enquired with a malicious glint in her cold blue eyes.

Draco smiled blandly at her and nodded. 'I'm fine thank you Mrs. Nott, just a slight headache.'

The woman looked at him with calculating eyes which shifted slightly to glance at Lucius who glowered at her before she backed off.

'Would you like something for that?' she raised her hand ready to call a house-elf for some potion.

'Oh no,' Draco assured her. 'I'm sure it'll clear up in no time.' He smiled again before returning his exprssion carefully to neutral.

**A/N: I hope you liked it!**

**Pleeease review and tell me what you think…XD **


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